(Tuesday, June 6, 2017) moon waxing gibbous Scorpio / tarot ten of pentacles reversed
I am witnessing Chris being tortured with flames. A group of three or four people are holding him inside a large medieval kitchen hearth made of stone. They are brushing fire over his head and body. He is in enormous pain, and they are also affected by the flames that they move with their bare hands. They accept the karmic price of torturing Chris by allowing the searing of their own flesh, albeit with a lesser degree of suffering. There seems to be a past life connection between everyone. I also receive a vision in the left side of my mind showing that Chris’ brother-in-law Thomas was an evil and dangerous person in a past life, although he is not present in the kitchen torture chamber.
Day notes:
Today at work I received my yearly call from the state fire fighters charity. The same man calls me every time. He has a dry and resigned sense of humor. When he said that donations are used to aid the recovery of burn victims, I remembered my dream and experienced a significant shock.
Chris’ femur is very inflamed. It is twice the size of his healthy one.
This dream takes place in a conference center at the base of a large hill. In real life, Glastonbury Tor sits on a tall hill and has rooms accessible to tourists at the base of the hill (Sabine says there is a tea room there). As I approach the hill in the dream, it is snowing, just like the day I left for England (April 27, my 60th birthday).
The magician in the dream is dressed like Merlin, wearing a star-studded blue gown and pointed cap. He has a twin. The legend of King Arthur and Merlin is prominent in Glastonbury. Merlin’s twin is Morgan le Fay. In my dream Merlin and his twin are both named Harry, like my great uncles in real life, Harold and Harry. Maybe that is a kind of Harry Potter joke within the dream. Jill Purce and Rupert Sheldrake have a son named Merlin who has a doctorate in ecological biology.
Merlin/Harry provides me with information about the earth’s chakras and ecology. Glastonbury sits on two ley lines, the Michael Line (Archangel Michael) and the Mary Line (Mary Magdalene). When at the retreat I stayed at Earth Spirit Centre, a five-star ecocentric meeting place with solar panels and other “green” features. Merlin/Harry gifts me with bags of food in the dream. In waking life, Earth Spirit Centre provides delicious, organic, vegetarian meals.
The last part of dream made no sense at the time, but now I see elements that clearly point to my mandala experience. In the closing of the dream I am shopping at a clothing store full of scarves and blouses made of silk and linen. During the Red Tara Mandala, we all wore scarves in the colors of the four Tantric directions: blue, yellow, red and green, and were expected to wear the colors of each direction when we were part of that circle. I had to shop prior to the event to add those colors to my wardrobe. At the ceremony’s end we wore white silk scarves.
A brown leather purse sits on a shelf in the dream. Jill Purce? My mother-in-law Kay is shopping with me in the dream. The dream begins as a search for Kay, who has wandered off on a journey of dementia. Jill does twice-yearly retreats on Healing the Ancestors, which I very much wish to attend.
We closed the Red Tara retreat with a fire ceremony. When I walked into the field where the ceremony was to be held, I felt a huge emotional shock. Large logs were vertically stacked against each other, as if a human was to be sacrificed to the flames. I immediately thought of my Joan of Arc dream, and of the thousands, perhaps millions of “witches” burned in Europe during the Middle Ages. The farm that is now Earth Spirit Centre and Compton-Dundon village were built then. I could not shake the sensation.
As I stood facing the fire ignited by Jill, I saw that tiny bees were hovering in a circle formation around the fire, at the eye-level of the human participants. I reached my right index finger toward the bee facing me. She landed on the tip of my finger and continued to gaze at me for a few minutes. A week of such profound magic.
The Healing Voice Tantric Red Tara Mandala participants (May 2017)
I live in England, in a community near the sea. The shape of the village is a perfect square. The coast extends along the north edge of town, and the town center has been emptied of all structures except for four cube-shaped, red brick apartment buildings. Flats, I guess one would say in the UK.
So, these four cubes sit in an open field of beach sand. I live in the south flat. The other three are located like points on a compass or a medicine wheel: east, north and west. A roundabout is under construction that will connect the cubes in an oppositional spiral. Cloverleaf? I can’t easily describe the energetics, the movement of the spiral. It’s quantum and mysterious, at least to my waking mind.
A sense of caution is needed in this town. Danger can arise. Construction of new, safe neighborhoods are being planned for the central area.
The interior of my apartment is simple, humble and in need of some renovation. The current decor feels as if is from WWII and contains only four colors, pastel versions of the Tara mandala: salmon, pale yellow, sage green and soft sky blue. There are square ceramic tiles on the walls and floors glazed in these matte colors.
It is Friday afternoon. I have finished working for the week and am heading out of town for the weekend. I hear a knock on the door. A happy party of my male coworkers have come to play cards at my dining table. It is also their intent to guard and protect my flat while I am away. They start slamming down beverages so I inspect one of their clay mugs. They are not drinking alcohol — that is a relief! I trust them.
As I head to the back door, a young homeless woman pulls me aside. She is looking for a safe place to bed for the evening. We decide that she can put a mattress and blankets on an empty raised platform in the kitchen that once held a large iron stove, many years ago.
Finally I am free to exit the flat. The door opens to an old stone patio in a small brick courtyard. I start to walk across the courtyard and into the village.
Day notes:
Is this about the Manchester bombing? During the dream I think I am in a large city, like London, even though it looks like a village. Manchester is near the ocean, but not on it. Manchester-By-The-Sea in Massachusetts IS on the ocean. I read a story about homeless men who assisted victims of the bombing.
